Fun at the fair
by dead air space
Summary: Slash.John takes Sherlock to a funfair. Chaos ensues. Unashamed fluff. If you squint really hard you might see a plot.


**Hello everyone. I have read a lot of Sherlock and John fics so I decided to take the plunge and post my own. This is no where near as good as what everyone else has come up with. But hey it killed some time while waiting for a train. Hope you enjoy. **

**These characters are not mine, if they were there would be a heck of a lot more man sex. I'm just making them get it on. :P**

* * *

'I just thought it would be fun. There is no need to turn your nose up'

Sherlock was currently holding the sack John had just given him at arm's length, the expression on his face was usually only reserved for chemical waste, his long elegant fingers holding the material with extreme caution.

'Fun? _Fun._ What exactly is fun about this? You bring me here, to this place of abject misery and horror, then give me this' he waved the sack around 'and tell me to have fun!'

John sighed, it was true, bringing Sherlock to a fun fair wasn't the wisest move, but he was getting desperate. It had been a week since their last case. Seven whole days and not one murder or criminal in sight. Seven days of dealing with a bored Sherlock had forced John to be at his wits end. When he heard the fair would be in town for one night only he decided to drag the world's only consulting detective along. Because it was winter it was dark despite being early evening. Everyone was wrapped up in gloves and scarves. Sherlock looked in revulsion at the children running about screaming, still, he was being occupied, and anything was better than trying to explain to Mrs Hudson why he was shooting at her walls again.

'Look Sherlock, it's a Helter Skelter, you sit in the sack and slide down. Now come on' John grabbed Sherlock's arm and dragged him towards the queue leading to the top of the slide. When it was their turn. Sherlock simply looked at him confused.

'How does this work exactly?'

'You've never done this before?'

'Evidently'

John didn't want to think what this said about Sherlock childhood.

'Right, do as I say.' John enjoyed the feeling of being the knowledgeable one and having to explain something to Sherlock. It was only a trivial fairground ride, but it was something.

'Position your sack like this, now get inside' Sherlock's long legs were barely able to fit inside the sack and John had to stifle a grin. 'Right, now when I say so you push of, ready?' Sherlock nodded. 'Ok go' John pushed him. He quickly grabbed his own sack and followed him down. He enjoyed the similar sensation that he hadn't felt since he was a boy. He skidded to the bottom and felt the friction as the sack skidded along the carpet at the bottom.

'Well?' he asked Sherlock, who was standing over him, sack in hand.

'That was...interesting' suddenly he accelerated, as if possessed by a greyhound, up the stairs.

'Come on John' He yelled behind him to his flatmate. 'I'll race you!'

It took a full hour, and promises of telling Sherlock where Mrs Hudson had hidden his skull before he finally convinced Sherlock that they should try something else.

* * *

'What is that?' Sherlock pointed to a boy in the crowd who could not have been more than eight

'It's a child Sherlock. Surely your great powers of deduction could have figured that out'

Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes 'No you idiot I meant what's that on that stick he is holding'

'Oh that's candy floss'

'Candy floss?'

'Yes, you eat it'

Sherlock then darted up to the boy and snatched the pink fluffy substance from his hands and ran in the opposite direction. John could only smile apologetically as the boy started to cry and run after his flatmate.

He found Sherlock stuffing the sweet substance into his mouth.

'John this is delicious' he cried. John could only feel a sense of dread. Feeding that much sugar to children was bad enough but Sherlock! That was a much more dangerous prospect.

They walked amongst the stalls and John could practically hear that great mind trying to comprehend the scenes around him.

'What are they doing? What with the novelty bathroom toys?'

'Oh it's a game. You have to get one of the ducks on the hook. If you do you win a prize'

'I see'

He then grabbed one of the poles. 'Go on John, pay the man'

With a look similar to a great white shark having seen it's pray, Sherlock eyed up one of the plastic ducks. With a level of concentration on his face that John had only ever seen when Sherlock was standing over murder victims, he expertly hooked a duck.

'Aha' He leapt up and down 'I did it!' This earned him looks from the crowd who had jumped to the conclusion that Sherlock was on day release from the local loony bin. Why else would a grown man get so excited over winning a fairground game?

'Look John, I won you a prize' Sherlock beamed at him and handed John a stuffed brown bear with a big heart that read 'I love you' on it. John blushed and felt his cheeks redden to the colour of a tomato.

'He's never been to the fair before' he tried to explain to some on lookers while giving his best 'Honestly we are not gay' smile.

Sherlock had charged off again and John quickly found him at the shooting range. Again he won with ease but ran off before he could collect his prize.

'Oi Mate' the fairground worker yelled after him, holding up a bag containing a goldfish.

'Probably best if you keep that' John told him. He dreaded to think the experiments Sherlock could get up to with a goldfish.

* * *

All this running about was causing John to get a stitch, he found Sherlock outside a ride.

'I think we should go on this.'

'No Sherlock we can't'

'Why not?'

'Sherlock it's a tunnel of love. We are flatmates; flatmates do not go on the tunnel of love with each other'

'Why not? A tunnel of love sounds fun. What do you do?'

'Well, you sit in the boats and they take you down the tunnel'

Sherlock raised his eyebrows.

'It's dark you see' John continued 'Couples go in them so they can snog in the dark. It's supposed to be romantic'

'Oh, ok then. Come on'

Sherlock grabbed Johns arm and dragged him on the ride. He tried to ignore the funny looks he was being given. They sat next to each other as the boat entered the tunnel. It was dark and soft music was being played. There was bright pink glowing hearts everywhere.

John could only chuckle to himself as he thought of the situation he had found himself in. Here he was, ex army doc home from Afghanistan, going down a tunnel of love with his brilliant, mad, dangerous, male flatmate.

'What's so funny?'

'Nothing Sherlock'

John was wondering how more bizarre his evening could get when he felt Sherlock's hand on his knee, and then slowly creep up his leg. John turned to face his flatmate and was about to ask Sherlock what the hell he thought he was doing when Sherlock crashed his lips onto John's. Like a deer caught in the headlights John stayed perfectly still for a few moments, feeling Sherlock's hot breath on his face. What really shocked him, however, was how much he wanted the kiss to continue. He tilted his head to the side and began to move with Sherlock. He wrapped his arm around Sherlock's neck and began to run his fingers through his brown curls. He felt Sherlock's tongue lightly brush against his lip, he opened his mouth and felt Sherlock's tongue begin to explore his mouth. He felt himself let out a small moan as Sherlock began to place kisses on his jaw line and neck. John felt the need for more contact and slipped his hand beneath his shirt, feeling the smooth soft skin of his chest. John flicked his thumb over his nipple and was greeted with a sharp hiss of pleasure from Sherlock. John let out another small groan as Sherlock stroked his thigh. He began to kiss John with such ferocity he wondered if Sherlock was trying to swallow his head. John continued to rub his hands over his chest, feeling his breath become shallower and himself harden in his jeans.

Whatever part of him that still believed he was straight soon left as Sherlock rubbed John's erection through his jeans.

'I knew you would like this' Sherlock teased between kisses.

'Wait how did you?' So his flatmate knew he was gay before he did. That was just typical.

'Oh please you're hardly Fort Knox John. Let's start with the fact you joined the army because you have a subconscious desire to be around men, the dilated pupils and increased heart rate every time I come out of the shower, the fact you never slept with Sarah, and then there is the small matter of the jumpers.'

John wasn't even going to ask how Sherlock deduced his sexuality by his jumpers, instead he decided the best thing to do was to shut Sherlock up and kiss him.

John felt Sherlock's long, elegant fingers begin to work at his belt buckle and then the buttons of his jeans. Soon they were loose and felt those hands underneath the waistband of his boxers. He felt a bolt of desire jolt through him as a cold air hit his now aching cock. John buried his face in Sherlock's neck breathing in his scent as Sherlock began to rhythmically pump his organ. He hissed as Sherlock flicked his thumb over the top. He felt his hips buck.

'Harder' he groaned. Soon he was coming hard in Sherlock's hand.

'Still think flatmates shouldn't go in the tunnel of love?'

John made a mental note to take Sherlock to the fairground more often.

* * *

**Well that's it. Hope you liked it. Yes I am fully aware jumpers have nothing to do with your sexuality. I just needed to get a reference in there somewhere. :D x**


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